Victory at last!

Sapience, I am an old man. This may come as a shock to many of you who don't remember me; I was once the greatest Achaean in all history. I stood before your crumbling cities as I led the Forces of Evil in an onslaught of destruction. My head was wanted by all, and my body was wanted by all women. Only my mind was sharper than my rugged yet refined looks.

Now I am shriveled and even the lowly Grook cringe when they pass by me at Stygian Crossroads. Instead of having young women constantly gazing at me in awe and anticipation, only another old wrinkly man named Mizik, gazes eerily at me with creep-eye from the corner of the room. I only come in these days to check my messages.

I come quietly in today to check on things. You see, we used to call the public news, "that place where whatever identity crisis organization Shallam is calling themselves at the moment goes to complain about things". So to my surprise, I read that the Targoglians (whom I had no idea existed because I hadn't caught up in my newsing) had defeated Mhaldor in a major battle! I couldn't remember a period in history where light had won something other than venereal diseases.

Upon receiving this news I immediately set out to survey the damage. I heard that the only major casualties were the city guards - costly, but it's happened dozens of times. So where were the signs of this cataclysmic battle that was so valiantly won and led to the end of this war that I had no idea was going on? I assumed it was exaggerated.

That's when I noticed the most peculiar item lying in the newsroom: wooden and slender, like a broom handle if you only cut off the top ten inches. I asked aloud, "what is this peculiar phallic device that I've come across?". After borrowing some sanitary gloves from the good doctor of Nefarious Way, I inspected the piece. It was 4th century, definitely of Shallamese origin, and had a small inscription that read, "To Rho, my favorite choir boy -Silas". That's when it struck me - there actually had been an epic battle and this was proof the Targossians defeated and occupied us. Oh how my heart wept.

And I remembered the last dozen times our guards had been slain. And I thought, this is a curious measure for winning a war. And one thing an old man may have a bit of, is wisdom. And in my heyday, Mhaldor's strength wasn't measured by our defeats - after all, we are and always have been the smallest city. Our strength was always in our ability to rise - quickly, quietly, and confidently. Without having to constantly try and reinvent ourselves by adding a new facade to our holy buildings or our government structure - because it is in our nature to remember our beliefs as reason enough to justify our city. Our strength has been proven hundreds of times in our history rising from the bitterest defeats, of which this is not one. Your history? Mostly the exact opposite, as the entire universe remembers. When you find yourself on the other side of the sword, we'll then know your newfound strength. And we?ll see if you still call yourselves Targossians then, Sultan.